


Warm Hearts

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: Necromancy!AU [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Child Abuse, Covens, Crushes, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, Necromancers, Pyromancer!North, RK900 is Noah, RKbros, Sixty is Rhys, Witches, Yule, teenage years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: Rhys goes to great lengths to give newcomer, North, a happy Yule.
Relationships: CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60/North
Series: Necromancy!AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1319477
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Warm Hearts

The six young members of the Stern Coven were taught by Constance. Rhys thought of her as COB, short for Crotchety Old Bitch. The backs of his hands stung from the swats of her ruler across them, a punishment for losing control, and showing magic. It was a stupid rule, they were in the confines of a house full of witches, his power was showy, not disruptive, and the lashes across his hands made it harder to keep his powers down, especially since the last one had broken skin. The dark magic pressed up against the wound, darkening it to black, and he hid his hands under the desk, hoping she didn’t notice. 

Noah was asleep on his desk, but he didn’t get reprimanded for it. She didn’t even wake him. Rhys had long held the belief that COB was afraid of Noah, which was kind of weird considering that when Rhys looked over his little brother, Noah had one arm pillowing his face, and he was kind of drooling on his notebook. Noah was only fourteen, but he was already the same height as the twins. He was just a lanky, awkward, sleeping teenager who mostly went through life in a perpetual state of exhaustion, only broken by eating pretty much everything in the house. 

Something poked into his arm, and he risked looking to his left. The risk was always worth it. North was new, transfered from another coven. He didn’t know her story, why she broke ties with her old coven, or why she joined one that was primarily necromancers when she, herself was a pyromancer. Her red hair fell against her shoulders, part of it tucked back behind her ear. Her eyes were full of fire, and he was so lost in staring into them that he almost missed the softly whispered, ‘are you okay?’ 

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m-”

“Rhys!” 

He hissed out a breath, feeling his shoulders bunch around his ears, but he quickly recovered, and let the tension bleed out as he faced forward, casual as could be with a smile on his face. “Just had a question about eye of newt, mustard seed, who knew?”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Constance sneered at him, walking toward him, ruler in hand. “And we’re working on crystals today.” 

“Of course, I knew that.”

“Pyrite.”

“Uh, that’s for,” he drawled out the words as long as possible. He heard the pen scratching on the paper, and Connor, who sat a row up and one over, held up his notebook with large writing of ‘prot f: neg vib, v grnd’ and luckily he had used Connor’s notes enough to understand. “Protection from negative vibrations, and very grounding.” 

She stared down at him. “Black kyanite?” 

He tried to think back to previous classes, he knew he’d heard of it before, but he came up blank. He glanced at Connor, but Connor only stared worriedly, his hand tightening around his pen. Rhys didn’t have a choice but to admit he didn’t know. 

“Hand on the desk.” 

He put his left on the desk, stared at the chalkboard. The pain of the ruler across the back of his hand was both dull, and sharp. The already present cut split open further, and magic spilled out, over his fingers. 

“Abysmal control, Rhys. You’re a mere level two, and yet you still fail to maintain control.” 

“Sorry, Ma’am.” He should have left it there, but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut. “Since we’re critiquing-”

He heard Connor’s pitched whine, like his twin knew what he was about to do. 

“You should try Sunstone, to warm your cold, dead heart.” 

It was kind of incredible the way in which her face contorted, like it couldn’t pick an expression, cycling through disgust, anger, and settling on intense rage. She was a necromancer too, but her magic appeared so much heavier, like a suffocating smog, and he found himself tensing at it’s appearance. 

She didn’t touch him. She froze when the room darkened from a magic not her own. It crept over the large windows, smoke-like hands dragged their claws down the chalkboard, physical enough that the screeching sound made the hairs on the back of Rhys’s neck stand on end, and he covered his ears with his hands. 

Noah stared over at them, eyes narrowed, magic spilling from his hands. Of course it was Noah, Connor wouldn’t be so monumentally stupid. Then again, Rhys glanced up at Constance, no longer the picture of rage, but quiet, wide-eyed fear. 

The clock on her desk dinged. “Dismissed. Everyone out.” She then looked to Noah. “Not you. Clearly, Amanda needs to temper you. Again.” 

Noah’s hands curled into fists on his desk, but he sat perfectly still, magic still swaying around him, shadows pitching this way and that, in a way that left most people dizzy.

“Come on,” Connor said, yanking Rhys from his desk. 

He stumbled, but Connor didn’t let go. “But Noah,” Rhys said once they were in the hall. 

“He’s due to be tempered anyway. Amanda won’t hurt him,” Connor said, continuing to drag him along. “You on the other hand, what the heck was that?” Connor only stopped once they were inside the laundry room, but apparently didn’t actually want a response to his question. “Show me your hands.”

“I’m fine,” he said. Connor glared until Rhys sighed, and held out both hands. His left was worse, already showing signs of bruising, the split skin bleeding, he couldn’t keep the tremble out of his fingers. His right was red, it ached, but it was fine, he was fine, this was fine. 

“Is she always like that?” Rhys registered North’s voice with a stupid amount of giddiness which he did his best to hide. 

“More or less,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Still glad you transfered?” 

She paled a little, glared over at the washing machine. “You should wash the cut.” 

“I know,” Rhys said, walking over to the large basin skin. The soap smelled of lemons, and it made the cut sting a little more. The water pressure was too high but he rinsed off his hands, fingers shaking worse as he turns off the water. 

“I’ll check upstairs, see if I can find a first aid kit,” Connor said.

“I’m fine,” Rhys insisted, staring at his hand a moment, his magic pressing against it, blackening the wound. “It’s a little cut. It’s not that deep.” 

Connor held out one of the fluffy, white clean towels from the basket.

Rhys didn’t take it. “If I get blood on that, Amanda will be furious.” Constance might be a pain in the ass, and his hands, but Amanda- he felt cold just thinking about it. 

North untied the dark blue ascot she had on her purse. She gently took his hand, and wrapped the ascot around the wound, and tied it on top, carefully tightening it so it would stay in place, but obviously trying not to hurt him. She held his hand in both of hers for a moment before letting go, her face so red it nearly matched her hair. “I hope that helps,” she said before leaving.

Rhys stared until she turned at the staircase, and he couldn’t see her anymore. When he turned back, Connor was staring at him. “What?” 

“What was that?” Connor asked in return.

“New girl being nice?” Rhys shrugged. 

“Uh huh,” Connor’s lips twitched, and Rhys shoved his shoulder. They both turned to leave, but paused in the doorway when they heard Constance talking to someone, two sets of footsteps on the stairs. 

Connor turned off the light, pitching the laundry room, and half of the basement hallway into darkness. From there they could see Constance and Amanda come down the stairs, into the semi-lit area. The classroom looked darker than it had earlier, Noah’s magic bleeding out further. 

Rhys hated it, standing there while the Amanda went in, Constance stepping back from the shadows. He watched as the claw like shadows blended out into soft smoke. A few minutes later Amanda emerged with Noah, his magic still wild, and it shifted with the source, clinging to him, but still strong near him, but more smoke-like along the walls. Amanda’s hand was on his shoulder, and even at the distance he could see her fog-like magic building around her hands. 

“It has to be done,” Connor whispered.

He thought of Amanda’s magic pressing into Noah, caging his own. It had to be done, for Noah’s own safety, for all of their safety. “I hate her.” 

“I know,” Connor replied. “But we need her.” 

Rhys knew that. Not many covens would take the risk of accepting someone as powerful as Noah. Amanda saw it as her own crowning achievement- that she could keep him under control. 

They waited until Amanda and Noah had been out of sight for a while, before they crept up the stairs, not wanting to attract the attention of Constance, who’d returned to the now well lit classroom. 

They had free time after classes to do as they saw fit, as long as their assigned chores were completed. Rhys had dish duty this week so he didn’t have anything to do until after dinner, but he did have a hunch at where he could find North. 

“I have to do dinner prep,” Connor said. 

Rhys smirked. “Go easy on the dishes.” 

Connor rolled his eyes, and turned on his heel, redirecting himself toward the kitchen. 

Rhys walked down the long hall. Snow was falling, and it looked beautiful as the big fluffy flakes lazily drifted toward the ground. The library was a pretty grand name for a room that had some big bookshelves, but wasn’t particularly large. It did have some comfy seating and a fireplace though, and that made it Rhys’s favourite. The fact that North had taken to hanging out there had nothing to do with it. 

Like every other afternoon, there she was, curled up on the couch, just watching the fire. Usually he just lingered in the doorway for a minute, and left- she was new and probably didn’t want to be crowded, it wasn’t that he was nervous, of course not. 

This time, she looked over, and caught him. He knew love spells weren’t _really_ real, and yet it the magnetic pull felt like it could only be magic. He found his feet moving toward her without a conscious thought, and he sat down on the other side of the couch. 

“Does your hand still hurt?” she asked. 

He looked down at the one that was wrapped up in her ascot. He’d forgotten about it until she’s brought it up, but now that he was paying attention, yes, it did. “Nah.” 

She didn’t look like she believed him, but her attention went back to the fire. 

“Can you… make the fire move?” he asked. 

She slowly looked over at him, a brow slightly raised. “Of course I can.” 

“Cool.” 

“Have you never met a pyromancer before?”

“Yeah, Amanda holds plenty of parties, and there have been pyromancers among the guests, but I’ve just never seen one actually do magic.” 

She turned and stared at the fire, and he figured she was ignoring him, or just didn’t want to show him. Whatever. Fine. Yet, as he stared into the fire, he saw the colour of it shift to become more soft yellow and orange, the colour change subtle, but enough to know she was interacting with it. 

He looked over at her, saw the way it appeared as though the flames were licking up her wrists, his heart raced, and he had to remind himself that it was no more dangerous to her than the smoke was to him. He turned back to the fire, watched as it bent and waved in an unnatural way, the way it twisted, the fluidity felt like a dance. The fire became a bit darker, as the flames returned to normal. 

She was rubbing her hands together when he looked over. “That’s incredible,” he said in awe. 

Her cheeks were rosy, and she smiled at him. They both turned back to the fire, and Rhys’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

“Does this coven do anything special for Yule?” North asked. 

“Not really. Samhain is our big one, for obvious reasons.”

“Veil between the living and the dead being the thinnest,” North nodded. “Makes sense for it to be the necromancer’s favourite.” 

“Considering the traditional burning of the Yule log, I wouldn’t be surprised if Yule is yours.” 

“It is,” she admitted. “Does this coven burn the log?”

“Yeah, that’s about it though,” he said with a shrug. 

She frowned. “Too bad. I always loved decorating the tree. It’s always so pretty with all the little lights.” 

Rhys had vague memories of a tree in a house he barely remembered, the colourful lights blinking on the tree, and it came accompanied by the scent of gingerbread. He tried to remember the faces of his parents, but while he thought they both had dark hair, he wasn’t even one hundred percent sure of that. Mostly, he tried not to think about them at all.

Instead, he stared into the fire, and willed the unwelcome memories away. 

::

The fact that Rhys had drawn dish duty with Svana was a special kind of hell. They elbowed each other, standing too close, as he stood with suds up to his elbows scrubbing the plates, and passing them to her to dry. 

“How’s your hand,” she asked, smug smile in place. Constance had always showed favouritism toward her. “I mean, I’m not surprised that you ended up with the ruler, you’ve never been the brightest bulb in the box, have you now?” 

“How does it feel to do so well in class, and yet still Connor is Amanda’s apprentice. She didn’t even look at you, didn’t even do a trial between the two of you. She knew Connor was just _better_.” 

She looked as though she’d been slapped, but it didn’t last long. “How does it feel that your twin is the apprentice, and you’re a worthless level two. Amanda wouldn’t even have you if you weren’t the part of a bundle deal that nobody wants.” 

“At least my brothers want me around, you were dropped off here alone and unwanted.” 

“Children.” Gerald was well into his fifties, and one of the more tolerable members of the coven. “You are coven-mates, show each other respect.” 

Neither apologized, and there was nothing that would make them like each other. Gerald stayed nearby though, so they kept their scathing remarks to themselves while they finished their chore. Rhys had never been happier to pull the plug on the sink, and escape the situation. 

He made a direct trip to Noah’s room, tapped twice on the door, and didn’t get an answer. Rhys had asked about his little brother during dinner, only for Amanda to say he wouldn’t be joining them. It wasn’t uncommon for Noah to sleep for hours after being tempered. Rhys slowly opened the door, and slipped into the room. Sure enough Noah was laying on his back on the bed. Rhys walked over, and took Noah’s hand, letting his own magic slide along Noah’s skin. 

Noah stirred a little, frowned before opening one of his eyes. He groaned, and rolled onto his side. 

“Are you okay?” Rhys asked. 

“Tired,” Noah muttered. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, you wouldn’t have had to be tempered for a few more days.”

“She was going to hit you.” Noah yawned wide. 

Rhys didn’t have a good response for that, especially since if their positions were reversed, he would have done the same. He was going to ask if Noah wanted some dinner, but he realized that his little brother had already fallen back to sleep. He pulled the blanket up, and tucked his brother in. He was quiet during his exit, not wanting to disturb Noah any more than he already had. 

He went to Connor’s room next, his twin was sitting on the floor with a large tome, and a notebook beside it. Connor glanced up, but returned to his studies. “Make it quick.” 

“Oh, so gracious with your ti-”

“I have lessons with Amanda tonight, and I don’t know all of this yet, so please get on with it,” Connor said. 

“I need to borrow like twenty bucks.”

Connor groaned, and ran his hand over his face. “You’re sneaking out-”

“You’ll be in lessons with Amanda, that’s half the danger. Everyone else is pretty avoidable, especially this time in the evening.” 

Connor leaned back, until he was laying down, and he dragged his upper body under the bed. Rhys waited, he heard something squeak, the box spring? A floorboard? Connor shimmied his body until he was back out, he held out two ten dollar bills, and a five. “Pick up some candy for Noah, please.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Rhys pocketed the money. “I’ll pay you back.” 

They all did get an allowance of sorts, mostly for clothes and shoes. Connor always received more, and spent the least, hording it away, dollar by dollar. Connor just waved him off, already having returned his attention to his studies. 

Rhys made sure no one was around before he grabbed his shoes. It would be too suspicious to grab his jacket, if he was caught, he could say he just wanted to kick the shoes in. It wasn’t a lie, he’d had a growth spurt recently and had gone up a size in everything, shoes included. 

He passed Gerald in the hall, but the man didn’t pay him any mind. His heart raced anyway, but he breathed a little easier once he was in his own room. He layered up, pulling on a long sleeved shirt over his t-shirt, and a thick hoodie over that. After double checking his pocket for the money, he grabbed a mini flashlight from his dresser. The window was old, and took some wiggling to push up. With just enough room to slip through, he let his feet dangle a moment before dropping down, his shoes flattening the inch of fluffy snow. 

It was a pain to drag the decorative iron garden mushroom under his window, but it gave him just enough height to pull the window back down. His hands were already cold, and he shoved them in the warm pocket of his hoodie. 

He trudged off toward the side fence, jumping over it, rather than risk walking straight to the main gate where someone looking out any of the front windows might see him. The Stern Coven house was located on a large plot of land, in an old suburb that was mostly abandoned. Some people just didn’t like living near witches. There weren’t lights on their street, so he used the flashlight until he got to more well lit areas.

He walked fast, the cold sinking into his bones, regardless of the layers he’d put on. It didn’t take him long to get to a corner dollar store. He shivered, rubbing his hands together, trying to get the pain of the cold out. He shut his eyes trying to push out the thought of Amanda, of her magic slipping in under his skin, pushing his frail magic down, down, down, suffocating and-

Hyperventilating in a dollar store was not his idea of a good time, and he’d he didn’t want to draw the attention of the cashier. He shuffled toward the aisle, swallowing hard, and staring at the candy until the warmth of the store was enough to help push the thoughts of Amanda away. 

He filled a basket with cheap ornaments, battery powered lights, batteries, a tree topper of questionable quality, two packs of sour worms, a pack of Tropical Skittles, and two bags of Jolly ranchers. At the end of the aisle, there was a snow globe with a festively decorated tree in the middle. He tipped it upside down, waiting for the little ‘snowflakes’ to fall to the top and then turned it back over. After a short moment of deliberation, he added it to the basket too. 

He paid for the stuff, staying just under budget and pocketing the coins. The wind blew with a cutting edge from the moment he stepped out of the store. Speed walking did nothing to generate any real heat, and the fingers holding the bag were red and aching. For the last leg of the walk, he turned on the flashlight, hurrying down the dark street, heart racing. 

His hands were so cold they didn’t want to cooperate, but he managed to get over the fence. The lights in the window guided him to the house. He dropped the bag at the window, climbing on top of the slippery decorative mushroom, and cursed when the first two attempts to open his window ended in failure. On the third try, the window finally went up, and he let out a sigh of relief. He grabbed the bag, threw it in, and then dragged himself in head first. He laid on the ground a moment before he got up, and shut out the bitter cold. 

Lights out would be soon, he didn’t want to risk walking around with the candies he had no explanation for. He gently nudged the bag under his bed, along with his wet shoes. He stripped off the excess layers, and got under the blankets, trying to ward off the chill that seemed determined to cling into his bones. 

::

The next afternoon, the three brothers were in Rhys’s room. Rhys and Noah were on the bed, and Connor sat on the floor. “So, why did you need the twenty dollars?” Connor asked, sorting the Tropical Skittles in his hand. 

“I-uh,” Rhys picked a piece of lint from his blanket. “North really likes Yule, and I just wanted to make her feel welcome-”

“You have a cruuuuuush,” Noah said with a beaming smile, before he shoved two sour worms into his mouth. “Rhys and North, sitting in a tree-”

“Shut up,” Rhys hissed, shoving Noah a little, his brother rocked to the side, but laughed as he sat back up. 

“So what did you buy?” 

“It’s the bag under the bed.” 

Connor ate the green Skittles before he looked under the bed, pulling out the bag. “Ornaments… lights… batteries- Yule tree.” 

“Yeah.” 

“There is no way you can sneak an entire tree in.”

“I don’t need to, I need to sneak the supplies out. And then convince her to sneak out with me.” 

“Right,” Connor didn’t look impressed with the plan, but carefully put the bag back under the bed. “I don’t imagine you’ll listen if I tell you this is a terrible plan.” 

“Nope.”

Connor sighed, deep and long suffering. “I didn’t think so.” 

::

The plan involved sneaking out once before, and getting his brother’s involved to guard the long hallway/entrance area so that he could sneak his and her coat, mittens and boots into his bedroom without being caught. 

And then waiting. 

The Yule log had three candles in it which were lit, sitting on the dinner table. North sat beside him for dinner, their elbows occasionally brushing from how close they were sitting. She leaned in closer to him. “That Yule log is pitiful.”

He pressed his lips together trying not to laugh. He was inclined to agree. He’d seen others in books which were festively decorated with springs of spruce or fir, dried orange, bits of clove and holly. Theirs was just a log with some holes for the candles drilled in. “It actually gets fully burned later, if that makes you feel any better.”

She gave the log a scathing look. “Only marginally.” 

He got progressively more fidgety as the festivities went on. He watched, as the Yule log was finally set into the fire place, but tensed as Amanda walked up behind North, a hand on the pyromancer’s shoulder. “Would you like to do the honours?” 

North smiled at that. Amanda handed over a handkerchief which held a small part of last years log as per tradition, and North accepted it. North walked over to the fireplace, and crouched down before it. 

Rhys hadn’t had the chance to see her make fire all of her own, but as a level six, she had to be able to, especially since she didn’t look at all worried, but gleeful. He watched as North pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, and carefully unwrapped the small burned portion of the log from last year. The transfer to the new log was slow, and gentle. 

She rubbed her hands together, the soot spreading and darkening her palms before she laid them on either side of the log. Her magic was every bit as beautiful as she was, it moved and flowed like a flame over her hands before it spread to the log, catching, and burning. Akin to her, she was unburned, even as her hands remained long enough to know the fire would truly stay lit, even as true flames, not just the illusionary magic licked at her hands. 

He noticed the way she looked to Amanda, who was no longer paying any attention. It was natural, he supposed, to look to ones house parent for approval. Yule was observed by the Stern Coven, but it didn’t hold a candle to some of the other Sabbats. 

He crouched down at her side. “That was amazing.” 

She smiled softly. “Thanks.” 

“I want to show you something,” he said, nervously fussing with the collar of his sweater. “This is basically the end of the festivities anyway.” 

She looked around. Gerald was the only adult left, but he was sleeping in the chair. Victoria had her nose in a book. Connor was missing, and Noah was staring at something- or someone, in the corner of the room. 

“Okay,” she agreed. 

He stood and held a hand out for her. She took it, spreading the soot to his hand, but he didn’t mind, holding her hand a little tighter as he helped her to her feet, and kept a hold when he pulled her toward the door. “Come on!” 

She laughed, keeping up with him as they hurried down the hall, and into his room. “What did you want to show me?” she asked. He opened his closet and took out their winter gear. 

“It’s outside.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Won’t we going to get in trouble?”

“Not if we don’t get caught,” he said. “Everyone is drinking in the kitchen, and that’s at the front of the house, and we’re sneaking around back. I’ll be fine.” 

She looked at him, then to her boots, mittens, and jacket. She sighed. “This better be worth the risk. I already don’t think Amanda doesn’t like me much.” 

He let out a bitter laugh. “I know what that’s like.” 

It didn’t take them long to get dressed into their winter gear. He jumped out the window first, and stepped out of the way for North to get down. She landed in a crouch, and looked up at the window. “We need to close it.” 

Noah poked his head out and nearly gave Rhys a heart-attack. “What are you doing in my room,” he hissed. 

“Getting the other pack of sour worms,” Noah replied. “I’ll shut the window.” 

Rhys rolled his eyes, but the window was shut a second later, and it did save him from having to pull the iron mushroom over, at least for the moment. “This way,” he said, leading the way around the house. The moon was bright enough, and reflecting off of the snow, that he didn’t have to use the flashlight until they hit the tree line. 

“You know your way around back here, right?,” she asked, sticking close to him. “We’re not going to get lost-”

“Relax, we do most larger festivities back here, I know my way around.” 

The snow crunched, packed down under their boots. “Do you think you’ll stay, I mean like, when you’re older,” she asked. “Do you think you’ll stay with the Stern Coven?” 

Rhys sighed. “It’s complicated.” 

“Because of your brothers?”

“Yeah.” He imagined being part of a better coven, a nicer one, one where not everything felt like posturing and lies, the illusion of ‘we are better than you.’ He imagined not having to stay within invisible lines to avoid a lecture, the ruler, the _cold_.

He shook off the thoughts as they got closer. He stopped, and she paused beside him, looking around. “What?”

“Wait here,” he said, and stalked off, it wasn’t too far. 

“This better not be a prank, Rhys,” she said.

“It’s not, just give me a couple minutes,” he said. He located the tree he had all set up, along with the little fire pit, and the two logs that he’d sat near it. He hoped the batteries hadn’t frozen, and was in luck with he turned on all the individual boxes on the short light strings. It looked pretty with the assortment of ornaments, and the star on top leaned dangerously to the left, but held on. 

He followed his own footsteps back to North who hadn’t moved a step from where he had left her. He held out his hand, and she took it, letting him lead her into the clearing.

She gasped and stared at the tree, then looked over at him. “You did this for me?” 

He couldn’t find his voice, and didn’t trust it not to crack anyway. He nodded. 

She released his hand to walk over to the tree for closer inspection, she touched the lights, and checked the random bobbles hanging from the tree. They were cheap ornaments, nothing homemade, or expensive, or-

“It’s beautiful,” she declared, her face partially lit by the tree. “I love it!” 

He walked closer, drawn to her like a moth to the flame. “I’m glad.” 

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” The hug was so unexpected he stumbled back a step but wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you, Rhys.” 

“You’re welcome,” he muttered into the shoulder of her coat. It was so rare to be praised for anything, that he waited for something else to follow, some scathing remark, some point of how it could be better, but there was nothing but her tight embrace. 

She pulled away, and looked over at the little fire pit he’d set up. “You must be cold.” 

“A bit,” he admitted. “Aren’t you?”

“Nah, I don’t really get cold,” North admitted. She took off the mittens and tucked them into her pocket, before removing her jacket.

He frowned. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Don’t worry so much, I’ll be fine, besides I don’t want to set my coat on fire.” 

He held the jacket for her, and like before, she pushed up her sleeves and touched one of the logs in the pit, it caught easily, her magic seeping into the log, the fire rising until it didn’t need her help anymore. She pulled her hands back and gave her fingers a little wiggle while the orange/yellow of her magic still danced. “Tada!” 

“Bravo,” he replied, holding her jacket back out for her to put back on.

They sat down side by side on the two logs he’d set near the fire. Rhys took off his mittens and extended his hands toward the heat of the fire, doing his best to drive the cold out. 

Their silence was companionable, at first he felt the need to try and fill it, but there was something calming about the quiet, about the crackle of the fire. He rubbed his hands together, cupped them and blew into them, before he stuck them back out toward the fire. 

“You’re still cold?” North shifted on her seat toward him. “Give me your hands,” she said offering out her own palms up. 

He paused a moment, before settling his own hands over hers. He tensed a little as she called forth her magic, he usually only interacted with his brothers- which was familiar and akin to his own, and Amanda’s which dug in under his skin and chilled him from the inside out. 

North’s wasn’t like that, it was like a soft and warmed blanket gently brushing over his skin. His own magic rose to meet hers, smoke and fire. She didn’t look bothered, unafraid by the necromancer’s magic, the light and darkness danced in unison. 

Even when they let each other go, the warmth clung to him. 

They talked for hours, laughing with each other, occasionally bumping shoulders, talked until the cold started to sink back in, and the wood in the fire burned low. 

“We should be getting back, better not push our luck,” Rhys said. 

North nodded, and the two of them kicked some snow over the remaining embers of their fire. 

Rhys trudged back to the tree, and North caught up to him, grabbing his hand. “Just… wait.”

“What?”

She stared at the tree, then him, and he wondered if he was reading this wrong but stepped in a little closer. She didn’t back away, if anything she tugged his hand a little. And so he took the risk and leaned in. 

The kiss was quick, chaste, but her cheeks were rosy, and neither of them could stop smiling. She kissed him this time, her hand on his cheek before she took a step back. “Okay, we should, you know, go, we should-yeah.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he cleared his throat, embarrassed by how it pitched. “I’ll just,” he pointed at the tree. “The lights. Turn them off, I’ll turn off the lights.”

He heard her giggling as he turned off the switches, and pocketed the batteries so they wouldn’t freeze over night. They walked back to the house hand in hand, breaking only when they were under his window. He pulled over the mushroom, and stood on the slippery top, hoping not to fall and make himself look like an idiot in front of North. 

It took him a few tries but he managed to push the window up. He pulled himself in, and then turned around to give North a hand, pulling her inside. 

They shoved their winter gear into his closet, and he was already thinking about how to sneak it all back into the general closet. 

“Thank you, for everything,” North said, a little shy, looking him in the eye, only to lose nerve and glance at the floor. “Yule’s always been my favourite, so it just… it means a lot.” 

“Oh, one more thing.” He opened up his bedside drawer and pulled out the snow globe. “It isn’t much, but-” he held it upside down, letting all the snow gather at the top. “Since we don’t have an indoor Yule tree.” He turned it the right side up and held it out for her. “Happy Yule.”

She took it like it was a treasure, and not something that cost him two twenty five at a corner store. Her eyes watered a little, and he was afraid she was going to cry. Instead, she hugged him, even tighter than before. “Happy Yule, Rhys.” 

She let go, and walked to the door. He poked his head out first, checking to make sure the coast was clear. Amanda would not be pleased to hear he had a girl in his room. _How scandalous._ The hall was empty and he moved out of her way. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she echoed, holding the snow globe to her chest. 

He watched her walk to the stairs, before he shut the door, and flopped down on his bed. As he fell to sleep, he thought of the way she had warmed his hands. And his heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm now on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/DaydreamsGolden) and as per usual, I'm hanging out over at on [ Detroit: New ERA ](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm)


End file.
